Ringbearer
by Kara's Aunty
Summary: Nine drabbles for the Ringbearers during their time under its influence. Second in the 'Nine' Trilogy.
1. Sauron

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from it.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Sauron**

* * *

Beneath the iron crown of Barad-dûr's highest tower, a silent form cloaked in Shadow observed the warring mass of elves and men surrounding his fortress. Fire and arrows rained endlessly upon them from above yet, though they died in their hundreds, still they persisted with their fruitless siege.

Seven years of deadlock. Seven years of concealment, vainly awaiting victory.

But no longer. His patience had finally worn thin. It was time to end this stalemate, to crush his enemies. And crush them he would - for Sauron, creator of the Master-Ring, was invincible.

Turning decisively, he departed to meet his destiny.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Author's Note_: Yes, more drabbles. Seems the ideal way to ease back into fanfic after suffering from writer's block.

Oddly enough, I couldn't write a drabble to save myself before the block. And now they just won't stop coming …

Bonkers, eh?

Kara's Aunty ;)


	2. Isildur

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from it.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net, lotr dot wikia dot com

**Isildur**

* * *

His eyes misted, though not for the father he had lost but moments ago. His heart pounded, though not because of the impossible victory attained by one lucky stroke from a broken blade. His breath quickened, though not in readiness to join his allies' cries of jubilation.

Fingers reached out of their own accord towards the smoking digit that was once Sauron's. Wonder raced through him as grey eyes reflected the glint of purest golden perfection wreathed in fiery script. It was burning hot, but no matter.

The air stilled as Isildur claimed his weregild.

To the victor, the spoils.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	3. Déagol

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from it.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Déagol**

* * *

Déagol clambered onto the riverbank, gulping air as he crawled. Rising, he brushed sodden hair from his eyes and exposed the palm of his right hand. Gazing transfixed at his shiny prize, he stretched out a finger to caress it.

Treasure! On the riverbed! Just waiting for him. _For him! _No one else. Déagol and his treasure. His beautiful, beautiful shiny prize. Together they would be happy. He would catch more fish than anyone with its aid - be the envy of his village. Be the_ mayor _of his village, even!

Anything was possible, as long as he had his treasure.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	4. Sméagol

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from it.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Sméagol**

* * *

"Get out! Get out, thief! And don't you dare come back again!"

"But where is I to go, Grand-mum?" Sméagol wept, freeing himself from his cousin's grip. He threw himself at his grandmother's ankles, clinging desperately, but the old matriarch prodded him away with her stick.

"Go where you will, it's no concern of ours. You're dead to us now!"

The hateful words rang in his ears long after he had been hounded from his village.

Nobody loved him. Nobody wanted him.

But Precious loved him. Precious wanted him. And Gollum could live with that.

Even if Sméagol _was_ dead.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	5. Bilbo

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from it.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Bilbo**

* * *

"Interfering busybodies!"

Bilbo was still grumbling days after arriving back in the Shire.

"Stealing _my_ Smial!"

It wasn't often one returned home to find oneself declared dead and the S-B's but a foot-hair away from taking ownership of one's home.

He straightened the armchair cushion.

"Selling _my_ possessions!"

As for witnessing Jessamine Bolger and Asphodel Burrows furiously trying to outbid each other for his favourite tea service ...

Bilbo stuck a hand in his weskit pocket, toying absently with the pretty ring he had found on his recent adventure. The familiar action quickly soothed him.

Who needed a tea service anyway?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	6. FrodoTom Bombadil

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

**Frodo/Tom Bombadil**

* * *

Frodo was annoyed, though strangely less with the fact that he had surrendered his inheritance without a second thought than with the lack of reverence Tom Bombadil had shown it. His enigmatic host had laughed and played with the One Ring as if it were no more than a frisky pup.

"Fool's gold, that be," Tom said of the Ring as Frodo took his seat beside him, "and there be no bigger fool than he that wrought it."

_Or he that bears it,_ thought Frodo guiltily, slipping it back into the safety of his pocket._ Or he that bears it._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Author's Note_: I've never written Tom before, and that might be reflected in this portrayal of him. Apologies to his admirers if it's a little clumsy.

Kara's Aunty ;)


	7. Samwise

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Samwise**

* * *

Samwise the Strong, Hero of the Age! Bane of Barad-dûr! Gorgoroth reborn as a glorious garden at his command!

If he would but claim the Ring …

_No!_

Sauron's Ring was as likely to grant Sam power as Sam was to refuse mushrooms!

Slowly but surely, Sam bested his enemy. Frodo needed him. _Him_, not some Ring-addled halfwit who'd lost every ounce of hobbit sense!

As if he'd ever claim _anything_ responsible for tormenting his poor master.

"I'll find you, sir," vowed Sam, as Orodruin glowed ominously on the horizon, "and then we'll get rid of it once and for all."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	8. Frodo

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net

**Frodo**

* * *

It was a siren call sweeter than elven-song, seducing every fibre of his being. His heart swelled and loving fingers ached to touch it. Desire raged within, flooding his veins, more potent than Dorwinion wine.

Frodo stared transfixed, pupils wide, as the Ring swung from its chain over the abyss.

He wanted it. Needed it. He alone_ deserved_ it! Why should he resist any longer? Only a fool would contemplate destroying that which completed him!

He couldn't. He wouldn't!

Lava raged beneath him like the very fires of Hell as, finally, inevitably, Frodo succumbed to temptation.

_The Ring is mine._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Author's Note_: Remember the summary, folks. It said 'Nine drabbles for the Ringbearers ...', not 'Drabbles for the nine Ringbearers' …

*wink*

Thanks to the anonymous reviewer on the last chapter. The delightful thought of Tom Bombadil being a hippy has had me grinning like a madwoman all morning!

Kara's Aunty ;)


	9. Gollum

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

**Gollum**

* * *

"Precious, precious, precious!" Gollum cried exuberantly, as he held the Ring aloft to admire it. It still clung to Frodo's savaged finger.

"My Precious! O my Precious!"

Gollum danced at the edge of the burning chasm with wild abandon. The lake below responded with another great glare and light reflected prettily off the Ring, sending him into further paroxysms of delight.

_So beautiful! So Precious! Oh, how he loved it!_

But he danced a step too far: seconds after reclaiming it, Gollum tottered on the verge of the chasm, wavered, then – shrieking - he and his Precious plummeted to their doom.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Author's Note_: Some text and all of Gollum's dialogue (such as it is) taken from _The Lord of The Rings_: The Return of The King, Book 6, Chapter 3: Mount Doom.


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